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Sunday, March 10, 2013

In this series of posts, I explore
my personal challenges with each of the principles of unconditional parenting.
These personal accounts run in parallel with a series of information-based
posts where I explain each of the 13 basic principles of unconditional
parenting as described in Kohn's book, Unconditional Parenting. Want to start
from the beginning? Click here for the Introduction to Unconditional Parenting with links to all posts in the series.

I had a parenting breakthrough. One of those moments when apparent disaster turns into gold, right before your eyes. When you see yourself go from wits end to rejoicing, when you see your child go from deranged fellow to gentle sweetness held in your arms.

It happened when Munchkin started spitting at me. On me. In my face. And laughing about it. Then, when I got upset about it, he'd say "I won't spit anymore" then turn around and do it again, giggling hysterically. Not seeing clearly, I initially succumbed to the very visceral reaction this stirred in me. Degradation. Deceit. Humiliation. I yelled. I even had the urge to punish him. That intense urge was so eye-opening that I knew I had to dig deeper. What was I missing? What did I not see?

I knew that he was imitating an aggressive child he'd had recent contact with. I knew that he had a stockpile of emotions to unleash. I knew this isn't how my son normally behaves, even when he's acting out. Still, in those trying moments I failed to see anything but a mean little boy who was treating me hurtfully. I failed to see the son I know. That blindness was more painful than any emotion I experienced from being spit on.

Then I rediscovered Playlistening. I opened my eyes and took a new look at this little spitter flailing in bed next to me. Instead of a little sh*t, I saw a little boy who wanted to connect with me, but who didn't feel quite comfortable enough to do so. I saw a little boy who needed my help, who wanted to be close. The next time he splattered me, I turned on my game face.

"Is there a sprinkler in here? Hey, it got me in the eye!" I let the game continue for a few minutes before I set the limit. It was bedtime so I had an easy out.

"OK, it's time to stop that game and settle down," I told him gently but seriously. He stood up, giggling. I brought him down with a firm embrace, saying I gotcha, I gotcha. His resistance subsided and we fell into bed together. He let out a few wimpers and whines, then rolled over into my arms and fell asleep within five minutes.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

One of the great challenges of parenting unconditionally
is that it usually requires a fundamental shift in thinking. In addition to the
difficulty of finding parenting tactics outside of rewards and punishment, we
are faced with the reality that we must
change how we see, not just how we act. This, the fifth Principle ofUnconditional Parenting, may be pivotal in a parent’s ability to
successfully use this gentle parenting style.

The decision to give up using rewards and punishment may
actually be quite easy, especially after considering all the evidence put forth
by Kohn. However, the
practice of unconditional parenting isn’t simply the omission of the carrot and
the stick. We must also let go of the idea that children’s inappropriate
behaviors are violations that deserve retribution. We have to let go of many
expectations and learn to resolve dissatisfaction. It does little good to refrain from assigning
a formal punishment but still exhibit contempt or disappointment towards the
child, either through overt verbal proclamations ("you messed up") or non-verbal body language (a disapproving grimace). Instead, we are asked to respond with
a problem-solving attitude. We are asked to interpret a child’s behavior with
empathy and openness. Rather than looking for ways to bend and mold a child’s
behavior, we look for “teachable moments” through which we can work together. This
interaction is guided by compassion and respect rather than personal will.

As with any other aspect of parenting, changing our
viewpoint is much easier said than done.
Cultural messages, comments from well-meaning friends and family, and
our own history all play a role in how easily we take on an enlightened view of
our child’s actions. Moreover, most of us have automated responses that we are
unaware of or find difficult to stop. We may be triggered into undesirable
responses to our children – responses that we witnessed ourselves as children,
even if consciously we abhor those behaviors. During stressful moments, it can
be exceedingly difficult to experience anything other than our own hurt, anger, or fear. It can be hard
to see our children differently if we are stuck in our own unresolved feelings.
The ability to confront one’s own emotional state, to learn to regulate it, and
to separate it from our child’s behavior is an essential component to
integrating that compassionate view of children into our being. That, of
course, is what makes learning to see our children differently so challenging:
we must first come to see ourselves
more clearly.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

In this series of posts, I explore
my personal challenges with each of the principles of unconditional parenting.
These personal accounts run in parallel with a series of information-based
posts where I explain each of the 13 basic principles of unconditional
parenting as described in Kohn's book, Unconditional Parenting. Want to start
from the beginning? Click here for the Introduction to Unconditional Parenting with links to all posts in the series.

I saw the bike’s front tires turn sharply to the left,
but Munchkin’s body wasn’t quite ready for it. He went face first onto the
concrete. I calmly secured the dog’s leash under my foot and picked up my crying
Munchkin boy. My calm evaporated into worry as I saw the blood pouring from his
mouth. I grit my teeth as he bled all over the shoulder of my crème-colored hoodie. For a brief moment I was genuinely more
concerned about ruining my favorite Patagonia outerwear than I was for this
wailing kid. I indulged my resentment for an instant and found my way out with
the thought of Oxy-Clean. That’s
motherhood for you. No room for selfish acts of materialism. Given,
Munchkin has been excessively histrionic about his bumps and scrapes ever since
I had surgery on my arm almost a year ago. But this time his crying was even
more hysterical than usual. Let it go,
I told myself, grimacing at the burgundy smears appearing on my shoulder.

“I need to get you inside right now,” I told him. I held
the thirty-plus pounds of Munchkin in one arm and with the other arm I carried
his balance bike and wrestled with the dog leash. Oh, that damn dog! She tugged
in the exact opposite direction of where I was headed. By the time we got back
to our gate, I was also fighting my own anger at this bump in the morning
schedule. When the dog pulled away from the gate, I pulled on her leash a bit
too hard and screamed at her to get inside. I know my tone upset Munchkin. I know my frustration made it worse. Stay calm. I reined myself in and
brought the focus to Munchkin. I still had no idea where he was hurt or to what
degree.

I held him while he cried for a few moments then set him
down on the couch. Everything in my being screamed Emergency! Emergency! I
haven’t always handled his injuries – or
my own – with grace. I was fighting so many internal demons, so many past bad
habits, so many bad memories. I
silenced the wily chatter and considered the most sensible action to treat Munchkin.

I rushed to get a wet cloth for Munchkin’s mouth. Against
his very vocal complaints, I convinced him to put the cloth to his mouth. The
blood cleared enough for me to verify that he’d cut his lip, but I still
couldn’t tell about the teeth. The scrape on his knee oozed blood, but seemed
minor in comparison. I held him while he sucked on the wet cloth for a bit
longer and the bleeding finally stopped.
Then came the eruption.

Munchkin cried. And wailed. And screamed and heaved huge
sobs of old. About five minutes into the
crying session I realized there was a good chance we might not make it to the drop-off
playdate. I wouldn’t get my morning to myself. I wouldn’t get to apply for that
job, work on my new business, or tend to my other obligations. I wouldn’t get
to care for myself. That’s motherhood for
you.

Quite often my mind jumps to a final, harsh conclusion. How will we ever afford to move out of
this tiny apartment?! But something clicked. I remembered the words of Patty Wiplef of
Hand In Hand Parenting: crying is emotional cleansing. I was keenly
aware that Munchkin had an enormous bag full of painful emotions to unload…a premature birth to parents struggling to fight their own demons without much in the way of social or financial resources. This pain is more than anyone his age should ever have to bear.

I wish I could have listened to my own inner child crying
with him, but it took all my strength just to sit and listen. I simply held him
close while he howled. I could even hear the difference between the moans of
agony and the shrieks of fury. He had it all. I listened to all of it.

Never mind that job. Never mind my plans for the morning.
I need to be there for my kid when he most needs me. No one was ever there for
me through my childhood anguish and that was perhaps as damaging as the
original trauma. So no. This
relationship with my son matters more than any golden opportunity that comes up.
This is the golden opportunity. The
opportunity to stop the cycle, the opportunity to heal and do better by both of
us. I’ve battled the odds and moved
mountains before. I’ll find a job and get us out of here. I know I will. But
not today. Today, I sit and listen.

After about twenty minutes, the crying suddenly stopped.
I hadn’t spoken a word through all of it so I waited for his cue. He asked me
about the accident, but when I replied he cried again. After a few minutes
sucking on a frozen teething ring (so glad I kept those around!), he asked for
the boob. Yes! My most powerful band-aid! His fat lip didn’t seem to bother him
enough to deter him so I nursed him for a good half hour. He nearly dozed off,
but I know it was just the exhaustion of catharsis.

By the time he finished nursing, it was too late to make
the playdate so we went out to buy watercolors. At the store we found Noise
Putty, which made us laugh so hysterically that we bought some and brought it
home. Even with my well-developed sense of potty humor, I’ve never laughed
quite so hard over fart noises before. I don’t think Munchkin had either.

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

In this series of posts, I
summarize the 13 basic principles of unconditional parenting as described in
Kohn's book, Unconditional Parenting. I include insights and interpretations
gleaned from other resources. The information-based posts run in parallel with
a series of personal accounts of how I attempt to apply these principles in my
own mothering. Want to start from the beginning? Click here for the Introduction to Unconditional Parenting and for links to all posts in the series.

As we saw with the third
principle of Unconditional Parenting, it's essential to have a vision of
where we are going in our parenting journey. One vital aspect to this long view of parenting is to put the relationship with our child first.
Placing a premium on the relationship itself provides the structure and freedom
to parent with unconditional love. Our role as parent and offspring is not just
as leader and follower, dominant and submissive, or authority figure and
citizen. Instead, it is a partnership in which the parent is the primary guide
and teacher, and often the willing student and listener.

Putting the relationship with our children first means
taking the time to consider their viewpoint. It means taking pause when we
become upset with them. The challenge is to return our focus to the
relationship, rather than just the 'acting out' or irritating behaviors of our children. When
making decisions about discipline, we have to consider whether our actions will
negatively affect the relationship. This doesn't mean that a child must be
happy with every parental decision. It does mean that we should consider
whether our choices might damage the relationship. Not getting one's way all
the time is one thing and kids can learn to cope with that. Feeling rejected,
misunderstood, or unheard, however, could very well create rifts in the
parent-child relationship.

In many ways, it helps to think about our role as parents
in the same we do our other long-term roles, such as in marriage and
friendship. If we genuinely care about the lasting relationship, we spend a lot
of time and effort on communication, trust, showing respect and gratitude, and
working through disagreements. We screw up. We get angry and hurt. We fight. We
make amends. We change. We accept. We also love each other, find meaning and
connection, laugh and have a jolly good time.

It's not so different with kids. This is not to say that
having a partnership with children means letting them do whatever they want. In
equitable, adult relationships, we aren't allowed to do whatever we want,
either. Don't mistake partnership for permissiveness.

Having a sound relationship with our children also makes
the job of parenting that much easier. When a child has trust, respect, and
deep love for a parent -- based on experience, not the biological imperative of
being a dependent child -- he becomes easier to guide. Cooperation,
communication, and problem-solving are all facilitated by a willingness and
sincere desire to interact with the parent. It's no big surprise because adults
are the same way. Would you prefer a boss who orders you around or one who
treats you with decency?

When the parent-child relationship is strained or broken,
however, kids are more likely to "misbehave." Ever notice that when
you're stressed, distant, or otherwise not well connected to your child that he
becomes harder to deal with? It's not just because your mind and heart are
elsewhere or your threshold is low. It's
because children can sense a strain on the relationship.Acting out may be the way they ask for
help or express their own concerns about the situation. We just have to be
willing to listen and pay attention. We have to work a little harder to get
what it is they're saying - or screaming, whining, singing, crying, or shouting
hysterically with laughter.

The good news is that if we make the relationship with
our kids a top priority, then the relationship can recover from the many mistakes we are likely to make as parents
(and yes, we all make mistakes). Smaller problems often magically
resolve themselves after we take the time to connect. Larger issues may take
more time and effort, but even those can be repaired if we genuinely care about
our relationship.

If we want the loving parent-child relationship to last
beyond eighteen years, beyond independence, distance, and differences in adult
lifestyles, it's worth making it a priority. Of course, there’s also the intrinsic value of
the relationship. Who can deny the transcendent power of holding your little one close in your arms? On many days, that’s enough to fuel the tiring work of
parenting. On other days, it’s nice to know that having that core foundation
will make parenting just a bit easier.

Do
you have the kind of relationship with your child that you’d like to have?